


Paint Me in a Million Colors

by Broken_Clover



Category: Guilty Gear
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Bisexual Disaster Axl Low, F/M, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-04-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:47:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23917015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broken_Clover/pseuds/Broken_Clover
Summary: They say ‘we all fall in love sometimes,’ but that’s far too often in Axl’s opinion, thank you very much.(AKA the one where Axl falls in love too easily and doesn’t know how to deal)
Relationships: Axl Low/Chipp Zanuff, Axl Low/I-no, Axl Low/Ky Kiske, Axl Low/Venom, Axl Low/Zappa, Axl Low/Мegumi (Guilty Gear), Sol Badguy/Axl Low
Comments: 3
Kudos: 13





	Paint Me in a Million Colors

**Author's Note:**

> Editing? I don't know her.
> 
> I've never written a soulmate fic but it seemed like a fun idea so why not.

There’s a brass locket three inches below his heart, propped slightly ajar. The links of a little metal chain trail off the top of it before twisting down, only to be interrupted by a snapped-off loop that ends the perfect rhythm. The jagged ends of the broken chain point outwards, as if indicating that there’s something hidden away past the curve of his chest, just hidden from view.

Funnily enough, it’s one of the few places where there’s nothing to see but skin. Maybe it’ll be filled up someday. He can’t say for sure. There’s always an element of surprise to it.

Even if it wasn’t so much like the real thing, he would immediately have been able to tell what it was for. The locket is open, but no matter how much he squints at it, there’s only black, instead of the photo that’s supposed to be there. But he has the real one, always hidden away in his back pocket. That’s enough for him.

Axl thumbs over the spectrum of neutral colors, drawn so lifelike that there are still times when he expects the feeling of cold metal against his skin. It’s a cleaner job, too, smoother than most human hands would be able to make. It hasn’t faded at all since the day he got it, the way he’s been told normal tattoos are prone to do. Not that he’d know. Getting a tattoo wasn’t something he’d ever planned on doing intentionally. Needles made him kinda skittish.

These didn’t hurt though. He’d worried it would, the second time it happened. Maybe it had been a fluke the first time. Maybe that was why he was getting a second one in the first place, because it had been wrong. But he was the one that had been wrong. Aside from the strange glow, there wasn’t much more to it.

Hers had been the second, actually. Way back when he’d been younger and stupider, he and all the other schoolkids had been eager to try and get their marks as fast as possible- with little coming out of it, aside from a few temporary tattoos and awkward stories. Most kids just didn’t just find the right person so young. But he’d met Steve in tenth grade, they’d agreed to start a rinky-dink garage band, and the next morning, he’d woken up with a jet-black treble clef on the back of his shoulder.

He’d never told Megumi. People were only supposed to have one soulmate, right? He’d been too ungodly embarrassed to spit it out before Steve moved off to California, so Axl had just assumed he’d lost his only chance and had to come to terms with it. Made for one hell of a surprise when the locket showed up. That one he’d showed her. Megumi had loved it.

And that was supposed to be it. Brief glances towards cute passerbys was one thing, but he had Megumi, and according to all that folk shit, they were made for each other. Weird first-time accidents be damned.

Then again, the universe seemed to have decided that his life was already so damn weird with the time travel bullshit, so it must have decided to slap on one more bit of ridiculousness for good measure. Hoo-ray. And he thought ‘hopeless romantic’ was just one of those hokey phrases that didn’t mean anything. 

Well, the future seemed eager to prove him wrong on multiple accounts.

There’s something fun about the surprise, but it would be nice if he had some control over where they ended up. Her locket seems almost dull compared to the shocking electric-blue a bit further down, right on the curve of his hip. A lightning bolt, naturally; what else would it be? The color made it harder to hide, any time his clothing got rumpled up. Part of the reason he had to be careful to watch himself about Kiske. Getting tackled to the ground and handcuffed tended to push things around, and the last thing he needed. Didn’t exactly help that he had a thing for uniforms, and getting pinned like that _was_ kinda hot, if he was being honest with himself...

Ah jeez, wouldn’t that be just his luck. Getting turned on by that kind of shit. From what he’d seen, Kiske was kind of a prude. He probably would freak out and slap another criminal charge on him. Public indecency or some shit. Not his fault the guy had a cute face and a nice ass.

Well, at least he didn’t always fall for the uppity ones. On his right sleeve, a trio of blood-red music notes bobbed up and down, unreadable on their invisible stanza. Not the first thing he would have expected for I-no, but he liked it quite a bit. It had an unexpectedly classy touch to it.

What wasn’t to like about her? Nice legs, nice body, nice face, nice...well, everything. He knew some guys weren’t into forceful women. Personally, he thought those guys were massive fuckin’ cowards.

A woman he could exchange jabs with. Someone who loved a good fight. Someone who’d gladly tell you how she felt about things. A lady with fire. If only he ever had more than a minute to talk to her before they either broke out fighting or she vanished to whatever business she had, swiping away a bit of his heart and running away with it before he could say anything.

Well, not like that was anything new. The future had an odd tendency to do that to him. So many pretty strangers, sticking around just long enough to get his attention before letting his stupid-ass heart do the rest of the work. They can’t be doing it on purpose, can they? That’d be one hell of a shitty joke.

An elegant little birdie sat perched on one of his ribs. Navy-blue. He didn’t know what the connection was between it and the guy with the pool cue, aside from the color, but he supposed asking was a terrible plan. It had started off nice, at least, Axl had found him looking down on his luck and bought him a glass of whiskey from the nearest bar-stand. He’d been kinda cagey at first, but they’d managed a few laughs and a bit of conversation, but as soon as he’d brought up the idea of heading inside and getting another drink together he’d freaked out and tried to kill him with a pool cue. It was the worst time for that, too, if he’d know the guy was that gorgeous _and_ played pool he would have pulled out some better pickup lines, maybe a cutesy nickname. But all he’d gotten out of the whole thing had been a sore spot on the back of his head and the little tattoo.

Something pale, almost translucent was twisted a little bit lower, right on the side of his solar plexus. It was a little hard to see most days, and it didn’t really help that he was already so pale himself. If he had to guess, it must have belonged to that weird drifter kid he’d crashed with for a few days on the way to Paris. Young-looking guy, seemed pretty straight-laced (though the outfit was atrocious, did people really dress like that in the future?) which made it doubly weird on why he’d be out wandering by himself instead of being at school. Wasn’t much of a talker, from the little Axl had gotten he was apparently heading there in search of a doctor for something. It probably wasn’t his business to know a stranger’s medical information, but he hoped it had something to do with the guy’s memory problems. He had this weird habit of spacing out every so often and rambling on to nobody in particular, and several times he’s tried to start a conversation, only for the guy to look at him like he had no idea who he was or where he’d come from. 

Still a nice kid, though. Aside from those two or three times he’d started screaming for no reason, he was pretty quiet. Kept to himself. And he definitely gave off a touchy-feely vibe. Got all antsy whenever they were walking through the woods unless they held hands. And whenever anything crinkled or cracked outside the safety of the campfire light at night, Axl would unfailingly feel a pair of trembling arms latch onto him a moment later. And that wasn’t even getting into the sleep-cuddling…

Was it supposed to be a ghost or something? It made a weird kind of sense, he supposed. Quiet. Always jumpy. Real cute, though, and it was nice to actually meet someone whose first instinct _wasn’t_ to steal his wallet or try to stab him in the kidneys.

An itch on his heel reminded him of something else. He reached down to scratch the spot, nudging down his sock until the tip of something steel-gray and sharp poked out. That was an easier connection. Shuriken for a ninja. Although he’d never seen a ninja that looked like Billy Idol after he’d stuck a fork in an electrical socket. His mouth moved just as fast as his feet had, and trying to figure out what the hell he’d been saying at first was a chore in itself. At least he’d had something nice to look at in the process. For a ninja, he wasn’t exactly quiet or subtle, but he had the look down, so that had to count or something, right?

Apparently his rambling had been something about an upcoming election. He knew approximately jack shit about how elections worked in the future- then again, he probably wasn’t even legally eligible anymore- so what was the harm in saying yes? At least it got him a cute smile before he’d run off.

Then again, who even knew if he’d see him again. Or any of the rest of them. They had all been brief little flings, a few days at best, how did he manage to latch on so quickly? Was there something wrong with him? How could someone get so many soulmarks, almost entirely from people he’d hardly met?

Well, at least he had Sol.

Right.

Sol.

Unconsciously, despite the man in question likely being a hundred miles away, he gripped the leg of his pants to make sure it was covered. Even when covered, he could almost see the twisting column of scales and claws and fire curled around his thigh. Like Kiske’s lightning hadn’t been obvious enough. 

He’d have made a joke about it if it hadn’t involved admitting something so embarrassing. Sol was his friend, more or less. He wasn’t really sure if Sol saw him as much more than a drinking buddy, whatever that counted for. Just two guys being pals, and that was it. Part of him wanted that to be all. It seemed that the other part had won out yet again. Lovely.

There were so many things wrong with the idea. Worst of all was that Sol was already taken. During one drunken escapade, he had been wasted enough to show off his own mark. A pair of machine cogs, reddish-pink and silver, interlocked. They fit together perfectly. It was from a girl named Aria, the love of his life...anything he said beyond that had been slurred by alcohol. It didn’t matter. The point had already been made. Even if he’d had the impossible fortune of meeting someone else who could have more than one soulmark, he already had the love of his life. Sol didn’t need another one.

He mentally chided himself at the feeling of his throat tightening. It wasn’t a choice he could make for someone. He couldn’t force someone to reciprocate. Being around Sol would have to be enough. 

Besides, just in case he had to remind himself, he wasn’t exactly limited on soulmate options. Maybe he could still get lucky with someone else. It wasn’t impossible. 

Though it _would_ be weird to add even more to the menagerie. All in all, he did look pretty ridiculous. Absolutely nothing matched. His skin looked like a patchwork project slapped together out of junk and whatever was on hand, rather than any kind of rhyme or reason.

Secretly, he still liked it, silly as it was. Whenever he caught a flash of color under his clothes, it was like a quiet little reminder that even though he was so far away from home and so many ridiculous things seemed to happen to him, he never for a moment forgot how to love.


End file.
